Bailey's Song
by Super Secret Squirrel
Summary: Five years ago, Cody and Bailey said their goodbyes, knowing they might never see each other again. Now Cody, a scout for a major record label, needs a hot act or he gets fired. On his way to a potential singer, he stops for gas in Kettlecorn. Cody/Bailey
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own either of the two songs, Cody, or Bailey, nor do I own a Ferrari 599, though I wish I did. I do, however own Michelle.

**Bailey's Song**

"Bailey, you'll always hold a special place in my heart."

"Cody, you as well," she began. "But, this is where we say goodbye."

"I'll always love you Bailey," I said, tears forming in my eyes. "I hope I get the chance to see you again."

"I love you, Cody. I always have and I always will," she said, tears freely flowing.

As Bailey and I embraced, the memories, beginning in tenth grade at Seven Seas High, began to flow through my mind, softening the blow of having to part with her, all the while making it harder to let go of my life's first true love.

Watching her step on the plane that would take her back to Kettlecorn, I felt as if I had lost part of my soul.

_'Goodbye, Bailey.'_

****Five Years Later****

My name is Cody Martin, and I am a talent scout for a major country music record label in Nashville, the name of my label doesn't matter, for unless I find a chart-topping artist in six weeks, then I'll have to go back to Harvard and find something else to do with my life. My label needs a hot new act to bolster sales and regain power before we go down in flames. I have tried everything, ballads, country-pop, country-rock, country boy bands, you name it, and I have failed with it. Now they have sent me to this small town in Kansas to have a look at this thirteen year-old "prodigy", Michelle Sanders. I'd tell you where it is, but you probably wouldn't have a clue where it is, I only thing I know is about six hours before I get to this random town in the middle of nowhere, I drive through Kettlecorn, hometown of the best three years of my life, Bailey Pickett.

I'm sorry if I am coming off as sounding a bit blunt and monotonous, but deal with it. My girlfriend of the past four years cheated on me with one of my best friends. Well, at least, he used to be a good friend of mine.

So, back to the current problem at hand, I have roughly three weeks to find a good singer, and three weeks to put them on top if the charts, or I get canned. Well, I sure hope this girl is all that she's cracked up to be or I'm toast.

Checking the GPS in my Ferrari 599, I notice I am about 6 miles from Kettlecorn, and also about 10 miles from pushing due to lack of gas.

Pulling into the one gas station in Kettlecorn, I over hear some guys talking about the annual variety show at city hall. Looking at my watch, it's 6:30; I'll pull into No-where-ville about 12:30, which is way too late to hear a thirteen-year-old sing. I guess I better find a hotel.

"Howdy," greets a deep, but friendly voice from the counter. "How are you doin' tonight?"

"I'm fine, I guess," I said. "I need a place to stay tonight, you know where I can find one?"

"Sure," comes, a thick Southern accent. "Got a few places to pick from, but the nicest is a bit on the expensive side."

"I'm driving a quarter-million dollar supercar, price is no issue."

"Wow, that is a nice car," he says, looking behind me. "Is it as smooth as the 550?"

"Smoother," I replied, a bit surprised that the man had driven a Ferrari 550.

"Well, take this road," he said, pointing to the road outside of the gas station," about a mile and you can't miss it. By the way, were you thinking of coming to the show tonight?"

"I did hear a couple of guys talking about it. Could you tell me more?"

"Sure I could." _'I wish I would have lived here before, people are much nicer here than in Boston.'_ "Every year about this time, we have a party and anyone who wants to sing, is welcome to. We get all kinds of music, mostly country, but some pop, rock, classical, and even some of that rap garbage."

"What time does that start?" I asked.

"'Bout seven, but you might be out of luck for the good seats."

"Ok, I think I'll manage."

"Well, good luck to ya."

"Thank you sir."

I guess I could sit through this and see if I find any good singers. I mean, what else have I got to lose.

The first ten or so people/groups are nothing special, not bad, but nowhere near good enough to hit the top of the charts. Eventually, the acts started to get better, and about 8:15 a cute woman in her mid-twenties walked up to the microphone, and the crowd started to cheer. _'This must be one of the best acts they have.'_

As she started to sing, it was apparent that she was. Her pitch was good, her tone was great, but what set her apart was the feeling she put into Shania Twain's 'It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing.' By the time she had finished, there was not a dry eye in the audience. Her eyes, on the other hand, were flowing. _'Wow, that took everything out of her. That was beautiful… wait, I've seen those eyes before.'_

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the MC began. "The pride of Kettlecorn, Bailey Pickett! And, isn't it a wonder, guys, she's still single."

Wow, someone had definitely been doing some growing over the past five years. She wasn't the cute eighteen-year-old girl I had let board the plane back home anymore. Bailey had grown into a beautiful woman, who was, apparently, still single.

After about twenty or so more songs and a bit of talking to myself, I decided to sing a classic song from the country legend John Denver.

I went up to the sign-in "booth" and asked if there was an acoustic guitar I could borrow.

"I don't recognize you," the woman at the booth said. "Are you from around here?"

"No, I was on my way through, and decided to stop for the night, and heard there was a bit of a show going on tonight. So, I thought I might check it out."

"Oh okay, well, welcome to Kettlecorn."

"Thank you."

"Yes, everything up on stage is for anyone to use. Are you gonna need a band?"

"No ma'am," I said. "All I am going to need is that acoustic guitar."

"Okay, sweetheart. You're up next."

"Thank you."

As the teenager on stage finished singing an original song he had written, it was my turn.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this young man is from out of town, but I want you to give him a big Kettlcorn welcome."

A few cheers rang for me as I set up a stool, grabbed the guitar, and set the microphone to the right height.

As I started picking on the guitar I heard a few gasps and a few "oooh's". Then I took a deep breath, and began to pour my heart out to the one sitting a few feet from the stage.

_You fill up my senses_

_Like a night in the forest_

_Like the mountains in springtime_

_Like a walk in the rain_

_Like a storm in the desert_

_Like a sleepy blue ocean_

_You fill up my senses_

_Come fill me again_

While I was singing first verse, a couple of older gentlemen came up on stage to play the backing instruments. I locked eyes with one of them and noticed it was the clerk from the gas station. He gave me a nod, and I continued on.

_Come let me love you_

_Let me give my life to you_

_Let me drown in your laughter_

_Let me die in your arms_

_Let me lay down beside you_

_Let me always be with you_

_Come let me love you_

_Come love me again_

As my band started humming, I looked to see Bailey, but she had gotten up. I quickly scanned the crowd, but couldn't find her. My eyes finally fell upon the woman at the sign-in booth. She held a trembling Bailey in her arms, and she was smiling at me.

_Let me give my life to you_

_Come let me love you_

_Come love me again_

_You fill up my senses_

_Like a night in the forest_

_Like the mountains in springtime_

_Like a walk in the rain_

_Like a storm in the desert_

_Like a sleepy blue ocean_

_You fill up my senses_

_Come fill me again_

As I finished my song, the crowd went crazy. It was comparable to the last act I had hit number one. I turned to walk off stage, and locked eyes with Bailey. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were wet. When I got off stage, I walked over to her and put my arms around her neck, never wanting to let go. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and buried her face in my chest.

"I've missed you so much, Cody," she managed to say in between sobs.

"I've missed you too, Bailey," I said.

She stopped crying long enough to look me in the eyes and I lowered my head and kissed her, not a long passionate one, but one just to let her know that I was still there for her.

"I'm tired of waiting, hoping, and praying for you to come back."

"Bailey," I said, letting go of her and getting down on one knee. "I don't have a ring, a big speech, or anything special, but," I said, taking hold of her hand, "I love you. I have since the day you fell in the hot tub. I always have and I always will." And, summoning up all the courage in the world, "Bailey Pickett, would you marry me?"

All I got was a smile and a nod, but it was all I needed.

Taking her in my arms, I told her, "I have some business to take care of about three hundred miles down the road."

Not letting me finish, she said. "I wanna go with you, Cody. I've waited too long for this moment; I'm not letting you leave me again that easily. By the way, where are you staying?"

"I don't know," I started to say.

"You're staying with me," she said, with some finality to her voice.

The next morning, she packed up a lot of her clothes, and we went to "No-where-ville," Kansas. The "prodigy" I was sent to check out was not good, but the trip was far from futile.

"Cody," she said, as we walked up to my Nashville apartment. "I love you."

"I love you too, Bailey," I said, and, taking her in my arms under a light rain, I kissed her, and all the sadness from the past five years not having her with me, was washed away by the rain.

************

A/N: This came to me on a whim, so I took it and ran with it.

"Annie's Song" is by the great John Denver, and "It Only Hurts When I Breathe" is by Shania Twain.

As always, read and review, constructive criticism is welcomed, but flames will be used to cook my soup. Any ideas are also welcomed, and thoughtful reviews with sincere questions might even be answered.

SSS


	2. Bailey's POV

I liked the way that Bailey's Song turned out so I wanted to write it again, this time from Bailey's point of view. So, this is virtually going to be a carbon copy of the first chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own either of the two songs, Cody, Bailey, or Moose nor do I own a Ferrari 599, though I wish I did. I do, however, own all of the citizens of Kettlecorn.

**Bailey's Song (Remix)**

"Bailey, you'll always hold a special place in my heart."

"Cody, you as well," I began. "But, this is where we say goodbye."

"I'll always love you Bailey," he said, tears forming in his eyes. "I hope I get the chance to see you again."

"I love you, Cody. I always have and I always will," I said, not bothering to wipe the tears from my face.

As Cody and I embraced, the memories, beginning in the hot tub, began to flow through me, making it harder to let go of the young man I had fallen in love with.

Tears streaming down my face, I walked onto the plane, not daring to turn around, knowing if I did, I wouldn't make it home.

_'Goodbye, Cody.'_

****Five Years Later****

Hello, my name is Bailey Pickett; I'm the one lawyer in my hometown of Kettlecorn, Kansas. If you haven't heard of Kettlecorn, then you probably blinked and were in Kettlepod before you knew it. Kettlecorn is a very small town; we have one gas station because very few of us drive far enough to use it but once every two weeks. We recently lost our mayor of the last fifteen years; the goose that had been mayor for that time died last month and our sheriff took over the mayoral duties, he is a human, by the way.

"Hi Bailey," came friendly voice from my office door.

"Hey, Moose," I said, a tad bit annoyed. "I told you, I'd call you when I finished my work here."

"But that was an hour ago."

"Moose, I need time. Being a lawyer isn't as cut and dry as working at the farm."

"Working at the farm isn't dry at all."

"It's, oh, never mind. Look, go do something, and I will call you when I am ready to go to the show. And, by the way, we're not dating, so I don't have to always let you know where I am."

"But, Bailey."

"Butts are for saddles," I said. "Leave me alone now, and I call you later before the show starts."

As Moose walks out, I can finally get back to my work. You wouldn't think it, but for a small town there sure is a lot of need for a lawyer. And, being the smartest person in the whole town, by a long shot I might add, just gives you more things to do. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I had turned around and ran back to Cody Martin the day I flew home to Kettlecorn to go to Kettlepod University, and be close to my family. Don't get me wrong, I love Ketlecorn, and I love Moose, but Cody had something that no guy I have ever known again had. I don't know what it was, but whatever it was, he definitely had it.

"Okay, finally finished," I said, to no one in particular.

The annual Kettlecorn Karaoke Party starts at 7:00, and it's only 5:00. I don't really feel like finding Moose yet, so I'm going to see Miss Betty, the, I guess, "team-mom" of Kettlecorn.

Miss Betty is an older woman that just loves everything about our small town. She is also the town's activity director. She sets up all of our town's celebrations, including the Karaoke Party.

I spent about an hour helping her set up everything for the Party.

"Bailey, child," she said. "You need to go home and get all prettied up for that special guy you're singin' your song to tonight."

"Oh, Miss Betty, there is no guy. I just like to sing for the fun of it."

"Stop talking nonsense, girl. I know for a fact there is a guy on your mind. Now, Bailey, are ya gonna tell me his name, or do I have to lock ya in here until ya tell me."

"Okay, Miss Betty," I said, defeated. "His name is Cody Martin. I met him on the school on the boat."

"Then, why in heaven's name, have you been in Kettlecorn for the last five years, child?"

"I love it here."

"Bailey, not only are you lying to me, you are lying to yourself. Listen, this town can get along without you, you need to find this boy."

"But, this is my home."

"Home is not where you were born. Home is where your heart is, and Bailey Pickett, you heart is with this Cody boy."

"Okay, Miss Betty, but I don't know where to find him."

"If you go looking for him, you will find him."

"Thank you, Miss Betty."

"Now, run along, and get prettied up for your song tonight."

"Okay," I said. "And, Miss Betty, thank you."

"You're welcome, Bailey."

As I walked back towards my house, I began to realize something. I realized, that even though I love Kettlecorn, my heart is somewhere else. The three stop signs, two traffic lights, and one gas station showed me that, while home is always with me, life is waiting for me to find it.

Everything about Kettlecorn was too predictable, everyone had either, a truck, or an old beat-up, rusty, piece of junk car. That was, until a soft, dark, navy blue Ferrari 599 slowly drove past me, toward City Hall, where the Party was.

I walked into the concert a little late, but when everyone in town knows you are one of the better singers in the show, they give up their seat, so you can have a good view.

The first ten or so songs were nothing special, but, then again, they never are. Eventually, the acts started to get better, as they always do and about ten after eight, I decided to go up and signup with Miss Betty.

"I've been waitin' on you Miss Bailey. What song are you singing for us this year?"

"It Only Hurts When I Breathe, by Shania Twain."

"One of my favorites. Okay, well, your up after Dylan finishes," she said with a smile.

As I started to sing, all I could think of was Cody. As I got into the song I let go and my emotions came pouring out. And, by the time I had finished, people all throughout the crowd were wiping their eyes, while mine were running all over my face.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," James Pike, the MC began. "The pride of Kettlecorn, Bailey Pickett! And, isn't it a wonder, guys, she's still single," causing me to blush a little bit.

After I walked down, Moose tried to comfort me, but I ran into City Hall and into the bathroom, where I cleaned up my face, regained my composure, and hoped that I could hold it together for the rest of the Party.

After about twenty or so more acts, young Jamie Pike, James' son, went up on stage and sang a song he had written himself.

While Jamie was singing, I noticed a young man dressed in a hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants, and tennis shoes go up to the sign-in booth and, after a lengthy talk with Miss Betty, started to wait his turn.

When Jamie finished, he walked off stage and handed the microphone to his dad.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this young man is from out of town, but I want you to give him a big Kettlecorn welcome."

A few cheers rang for him, and as he was setting up the stool and his guitar, I realized that it was Cody! Immediately, my eyes began to water, and as he started to sing I couldn't take it and got up and walked over to Miss Betty.

_You fill up my senses_

_Like a night in the forest_

_Like the mountains in springtime_

_Like a walk in the rain_

_Like a storm in the desert_

_Like a sleepy blue ocean_

_You fill up my senses_

_Come fill me again_

During the first verse, a couple of the older gentlemen, including Miss Betty's brother, and brother-in-law took the other instruments, to back him up.

_Come let me love you_

_Let me give my life to you_

_Let me drown in your laughter_

_Let me die in your arms_

_Let me lay down beside you_

_Let me always be with you_

_Come let me love you_

_Come love me again_

As the band started humming, Miss Betty asked me, "Is this the young Cody you were telling me about earlier?" All I could do was nod.

_Let me give my life to you_

_Come let me love you_

_Come love me again_

_You fill up my senses_

_Like a night in the forest_

_Like the mountains in springtime_

_Like a walk in the rain_

_Like a storm in the desert_

_Like a sleepy blue ocean_

_You fill up my senses_

_Come fill me again_

As Cody finished his song, the crowd went crazy. As I watched him turn to walk off of the stage, I locked eyes with him. My eyes felt red and my cheeks were very damp, I must've looked like a mess. When he got off of the stage, he walked over to me and put his arms around my neck. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around his waist, cried into his chest, wanting this moment to last forever.

"I've missed you so much, Cody," I managed to choke out.

"I've missed you too, Bailey," he said, with a small crack in his voice.

I stopped crying long enough to look into the eyes I had fallen in love with so long ago. Staring into my eyes, he lowered his head and kissed me, not a long passionate one, but one just to let me know that I still had him.

"I'm tired of waiting, hoping, and praying for you to come back."

"Bailey," he said, letting go of me and getting down on one knee. "I don't have a ring, a big speech, or anything special, but," taking hold of my hand, "I love you. I have since the day you fell in the hot tub. I always have and I always will." And, as though summoning up all the courage in the world, he asked me the four words every girl dreams of hearing. "Bailey Pickett, would you marry me?"

All I could do was smile and nod, but that may have been all he needed.

Taking me in his arms, he told me, "I have some business to take care of about three hundred miles down the road."

Not wanting to lose him again, I said. "I wanna go with you, Cody. I've waited too long for this moment; I'm not letting you leave me again that easily. By the way, where are you staying?"

"I don't know," he said.

"You're staying with me," I said, quickly.

The next morning, I packed up a lot of clothes, and we went to "No-where-ville," Kansas. Even I had never heard of this little town! This "prodigy" he was sent to check out for a country music record deal, wasn't very good, but I have a feeling the long trip was definitely worth his while.

"Cody," I said, as we walked up to his apartment in Nashville. "I love you."

"I love you too, Bailey," he said, and, taking me in his arms under a light rain, he kissed me, and all the sadness from the past five years not having him with me, was washed away by the rain.

***********

A/N: I felt this tugging at me, so I decided to run with this one too.

"Annie's Song" is by the great John Denver, and "It Only Hurts When I Breathe" is by Shania Twain.

As always, read and review, constructive criticism is welcomed, but flames will be used to cook my soup. Any ideas are also welcomed, and thoughtful reviews with sincere questions might even be answered.

SSS


End file.
